The Hitcher
by Retro Soul
Summary: I put two scenes of The Hitcher  1986  into writing. Part 2 and part 6. I hope you enjoy it, I tried to make it as much like the movie as possible. I do not own rights to the story line or the characters.


John sits beside me, his smug self. "You wanna know what happens to an eye ball once it gets punctured?" he asks, his blade only inches away from my eye. My heart is pounding in my chest and my eyes are open wide. I try to focus on the road. "Do you have any idea how much blood jets out of a guy's neck when his throat's been slit?" he continues, sliding his blade down my cheek.

"What do you want?" I wail. I can feel the sweat dripping down my face.

"I want you to stop me" John says with no expression. I cant seem to think straight. I stutter for a while. "Y-you got the knife...you'll stick me with it before I can do anything" I choke out, on the verge of tears.

"That's right! So what do you got to loose? Try and stop me!" he demands, provoking me with his words. I keep on driving while John continues to slide the blade across my face. I'm making this choking noise, trying not to cry.

"Crying isn't gonna help" he says bitterly. I slow down the car when he says that but he almost starts yelling "Keep driving!". So I push my foot down on the gas again.

"Please...I'll do anything!" I plead, my words are wobbly and I think, he's going to kill me. This is the end.

"Say four words" John hisses.

"Ok" I say, eager to get him to stop and in hopes of getting this creep out of my car.

He pauses then says: "Say: I want to die". I'm shocked. I'm breathing heavily and the choking sound is still coming from my throat but I manage to get out "say what?".

"I want to die" John repeats. "Say it..."

I choke for a while and stutter, trying to get the words out. "I don't know if I can say that" I stutter.

"Sure you can. Repeat after me...I..." John starts. He runs the blade near my neck.

"I" I repeat.

"Wants..." he hisses. I choke as he pulls my mouth back with the tip of his knife.

"Want" I wail, my voice cracking.

"To" he says. I stutter and whimper, his blade is tapping on my chin.

"To..."

"Die" his words pierce the air. I choke again and I don't say anything. "Die" John repeats. Something catches my eye. John's door...it's left ajar...which means it could open with the slightest push. Instead of repeating him, with one swift motion, I lean over, pushing him out of the car, I yell "I DON'T WANT TO DIE!". His body flies out of the car and is left behind in the dust while I drive on.

Stunned, I check my face in the car mirror.

"Yeah," I say smiling. No damage on my face.

"Yeah!" I cheer, looking back at his body, only a figure left on the road now.

Now I'm yelling and honking the horn. "YEAH! YEAH! FUCK YOU, BUDDY!" I yell and laugh. John was gone, right?

Wrong.

Two days later.

I sit alone at a coffee shop in this deserted town. My life has changed drastically in the past two days-that crazy killer watching my every move and making sure he kills everyone I encounter. Attempting to kill me, three times I escaped. I put my face in my hands, thinking about how screwed up my life has become when suddenly, someone clears their throat and startles me. I jerk my hands away from my face and my eyes widen.

It's him.

"How do you like shit smell?" is all he asks.

Under the table, I pull out the gun I took from a dead man's hand-a man John had murdered. Rage shoots through me. John's smug grin fades when he realizes what's happening. I start shaking, I'm so angry-and slightly insane. I have this crazy grin pasted on my face as my whole body shakes.

"Don't you move...you stay seated right where you are" I hiss, breathing heavily. "Or I'll blow your brains through your ass". I could shoot this man. I really could. John looks under the table to see the gun then comes back up, looking smug again. An insane smile spreads across my face.

"The gun is empty" John says softly.

"Yeah?" I say wickedly, my grin expanding.

"Yeah" John answers.

"Yeah?" I say again, almost laughing. Not because I want to kill him-but because I have now gone insane. My heavy breathing catches in my throat and I stop laughing. My grin starts to fade. The gun was empty...wasn't it...

"Yeah" John replies in a whisper. I'm shaking like mad now, wondering what I'm going to do. "You never checked it, did you..." John sneers.

"So help me, I'll blow you in half!" I get worked up, my body shaking like a leaf on a tree. I convince myself the gun IS loaded.

"Alright...squeeze the trigger" he whispers.

"I will" I retort, my crazy grin is back.

"Please" he smiles.

"Oh I will" I assure him, my breath staggering.

"'Cause you can sure as shit, bet I'm gonna squeeze mine" he hisses, reaching under the table. I'm panicking now...we both have a gun. The table shakes and makes a banging noise, and like a reflex, I shoot the gun. I pull the trigger over and over. But nothing happens. Nothing but this clicking noise. I shut my eyes and curse myself, still shooting the empty gun. John didnt even have a gun. He was bluffing the whole time. Tears well up in my eyes as I lean back against the booth.

"Why are you doing this to me?" I demand, my voice goes hoarse. John leans forward, grabs me by the front of my shirt and pulls me close to him. I'm shaking again, not sure what he's going to do.

He takes a penny from his jacket pocket and puts it over my left eye. He does the same with my right eye. Holding my face now, he whispers:

"You're a smart kid...figure it out".


End file.
